


Roulette

by film_isastory



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda - Freeform, Denial of Feelings, Din Djarin - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fighting Kink, Grogu | Baby Yoda Being a Little Shit, Hot, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Yearning, the mandalorian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28972995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/film_isastory/pseuds/film_isastory
Summary: She knew it was a matter of time before a fob tracker led the Mandalore to her.All she can do is run.All he can do is catch her.Betting on who can win this prowl roulette game?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Mando/reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV/Reader), The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 63





	1. bait.

The rustle of the green leaves and branches aggressively glided past her skin as her feet heaved heavily against the dirt ground, overstepping stones, and slithered bugs. She withheld her breath, trying to control the pace of her pant and wheeze that can be easily echoed in the woodland. Her ears perked at the rustled noise in the background, feeling as if he’s within her grasp. In some ways he was.

Too panic-stricken and intimidated to look back at just how neck-to-neck he was. She continued faced-on with adrenaline pumping through her blood, determined to expand the distance between them. If she had to jump into a river, down in the trenches, or climb a mountain, she knew she would. Anything to get away from him. The _Mandalore_.

She can feel the whiplash of cold water from the small-puddles staining her clothing - it rained the night before, she remembered. In motion, she oversteps the puddles to detain the echoed sounds. Her forearms pushed forward fleeing as if she is in a marathon, in this case, it has been at least 14 minutes of running. She can feel her heartbeat drumming endlessly against her ribcage, even impacting her eardrums.

She recklessly tries to think of a plan, if she can’t outrun him, she can at least slow him down. Worn him out, she thought. In the midst of her vigorous running, her feet betray her dashing for the nearest tree that huddled with tall bushes. Her body leaned against the barked tree, as her teeth clamped her mouth shut - controlling her breathing. She can feel the wetness of her teary eyes from the wind with her flushed and numbed cheeks. The back of her neck is laced with a layer of sweat; feeling the trickled sweat down her spine and the side of her torso.

Her body scrunched down to the ground, huddling near the tall bush. With her tall height, she’s thankful at least the tall grass can cover her physique. Out of all planets, why this one? she aggressively thought. Irritation and annoyance flooded from her pores. Her dominant hand lingers on her blaster that is waisted around her belt. She knew at that moment, with all the pent up bitterness and resentment, she can just turn and kill him. Anything to get a good shot at the Mandalore.

Except for the little reasoning side of her consciousness knew it would be a big, fat mistake. Not at the idea of killing him, but the mere fact it would delay the distance between her and the ship she needed to get back to. She was ready any other day, except this very day. She almost laughed at the thought.

_Dank farrik._

The realization slapped her face in mid-motion, he stopped too.

Her scrunched eyebrows in frustration slowly settled, as she tries to steadily focused on the surrounding noise. The little leaves rustled and scattered through the air to the dirt, the buzzing from the slithered bugs, and the whistled wind lingered from one side of the forest to the other carrying on. He’s not moving, she concludes. With her continued breathing heaving, she knew she couldn’t stay long.

Her hand pulls back the sleeve covering the watch that sits on her wrist, checking the distance between her and the ship. 10,523 feet equals about 4,209 steps her mind calculated. Her self-consciousness cursed at herself for lingering too far in distance.

Her mind processes a plan at lightning speed - whether it would work or not - she couldn’t test it as if it was a hypothesis-science project.

A body of water, she thought. Any river would do. Her fingertips dabbled on the screened watch, analyzing the map nearby, with his armour she knew it would slow him down, tire him out. Anything to create a greater distance, anything to buy time to get back to the ship.

There it was in about 1,000 feet a body of water, she can swim through.

It was as if at that moment, the world cursed her being. A 'notification bing' echoed from her wrist. It was loud enough. Panic-stricken rose again, _shit_ , she mutters underneath her breath.

Without losing any misstep in her direction, she rose to her feet and ran as if the wind carried with her. The sweat that lingered on her cheeks trickled down her décolletage. Her ears immediately perked on the ruffled sound within distance, much closer than before.

Kriff, she thought, as her feet hustled much faster than before feeling as if her knees want to snap off.

“Hell!”, she shrieked in surprise with her dry mouth. A blaster went off, hitting the tail ends of the branches within distant inches of her head. Her teeth grit in anger, knowing and understanding it was a _warning_.

Fine, this is how you want to play this game, she thought mindlessly, not realizing the repercussion and ramifications of her actions. Though it lingered in the background of her consciousness she knew as soon as her feet halted and her dominant hand grasp onto the base of her blaster, that the likelihood of her escape has diminished. And just perhaps, in hindsight, she knew she would regret her initiative and emotional-based measures.

Just then another realization slapped upright and knocked her breathing pipes out of her lungs.

_The Mandalore blasting near her head as bait. Hoping she would react._

While she thought of a lightning-speed plan, he thought of his. _Of course._

As her figure swiftly turned, clenched around the base of her gun, blasting in the direction she sees him running. A blast to the head of the helmet of his deemed unbothered as he at full-tilt take over behind a thick tree.Her feet slowly pattered backwards holding her blaster at distant length.

“Come out tin-can”, her voice echoed laced with a venomous mock tone.No noise returned. She was bothered by the lack of response. Just as she turns to bolt to the nearest river, knowing it was within feet at this point.

Another echoed blast flung in her direction. Nearly missing her head. _Again._

Dank farrik, she screamed into the ground as her shoulder slams into the dirt. Hovered and hidden from view within the tall grass. Her nose inches from the dirt-worm ground, she puffed a breath. It was as if she was clouded with the worst judgement and anger, perhaps knowing one day it will kill her.

Her forearms leveraged her body as she used military-style crawling amongst the cold-wet dirt. Her eyes set on the nearest tree to hide behind and use it as a head start, as she continues to crawl forward.

That is until a hand is latched onto her ankle.

Out of impulsive fear and instinctual reaction, she twisted her body back now laying on the ground, as her foot twisted half halted into the air. Her blaster is stared right at the Mandalore helmet, where his at length targeted right between her eyes.

A slow huffed laugh echoed her chest. His visor tilted staring directly at her in amusement.

“Let go”, she warns tugging at the clenched hand around her ankle. He doesn’t. Doesn’t even utter a word, only a slow heaved breath leaves his modulator.

Their blasters still targeted one another.

“Fine, have it your way tin-can”, she mutters as her loose foot slams in target directly at the fore-front of his helmet. His footing stutters backward almost losing his balance whilst his hand unclenched around her ankle.

Immediately her body perks upright to gravity, feet planted on the ground. It took a mere moment for her consciousness to delicately comprehend the situation at hand.

As if it went by slow-motion, purely took seconds.

By the use of the Mandalore's figure, quick at charge, his hands slammed her physique into a tree. Blaster fell from her grip. Before she can even struggle against his forearms, his hand grasp onto the base of her neck pulling towards his visor. Not even a glimpse of his eyes, only a mirrored reaction of hers reflecting in realization.

_He was trying to knock her out._

Her head slammed once back onto the tree. Resulting in a groan escaping her throat. In aggravation, her hands grasp onto the base of his helmet to his surprise, he holds onto her wrist trying to peel her hands off his helmet.

“Such a Mandalore thing-to-do”, she says with a touch of a laugh laced with amusement, realizing to her what was once a myth was now verified at hand.

Heavy and uneven breathing echoed in his modulator as her hands pry her way in grasping onto his neck. Nails scraping and clawing, clenched hand roughed around his warm and thick layer of sweat neck.

Strangling was the way, she thought. She can feel the surprised shudder waving through his body with the touch of her cold hands, and the grunt of his breathing slow as her hand clench harder. She knows she can feel him struggling as he grasps onto her hands pulling as it seams.

In retaliation, he shoves her body against the barked tree. Her back arched in pain, with a grunt leaving her pipes.

His right-hand grasp onto the strands of her hair, pulling only to slam not once, not twice, but three times against the tree. Her eyes closing at the discomfort pain inflaming at the base of her skull as her hands slowly lose grip around his neck now falling to her sides.

His hands and figure fall back slowly, almost as if he was giving her space for her knees to give in.

And it did. Her knees faulted to the ground, as her head shook to the stiff feeling. The numbness of her fingers laced around her ankle, probing for the other back-up blaster.

Just to only realize it was directly in his hand, dangling in front of her sight like a prized-toy.

“You piece of-”, her voice cut off by the base of her blaster meeting the side of her head. Another grunt as her body lazily lands to the side of her shoulder slammed onto the dirt ground.In the mid-hazed of her sight, slowly fading away, she notices a little green-goblin peering through the tall grass. Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion in a double-haze. Lashes fluttering at its close.

Her mind questions whether she heard a sigh followed with a deeply modulated voice not in directing to her, but to the little-green monster who cooed in response, “Didn’t I tell you to wait at the ship?”

Blackness was all she saw.

The Mandalore gazes over her body, as he feels a rush of breath violently stinging his lungs. His fingers grasp onto the fob tracker that was once sitting in his pocket now dwindling through his fingered gloves.


	2. the wait. Part 1.

It was the sudden sharp pain that rose from the cord of her spine to the throbbing-pounding ache at the base of her skull that awoke her. Slowly her lashes fluttered as her sight is blinded by a sharp glimmer-luminosity. 

_Yellow? White? Orange? Red?_ all the vivid, blazing colours burned to the touch of her gaze as she close and open her eyes repeatedly trying to adjust what was within feet of her. 

She rolled her neck from shoulder to shoulder biting back on a pained groan that is threatening to peer out of her throat. As her mind slowly appears out of the awakening, she can feel a layer of heat lingering on her exposed skin. The once sweat layer of beaded exhaustion has now dried, replaced with a hot-warmth feverish atmosphere. Encircling her like a cloud of a burning furnace. 

Her hands try to reach her forehead to wipe and lessen the warmth-damp lingering only to feel a clasp of metal steel around both of her wrists, tightened behind her back. Her head hung lowly as her blear vision continues to reflect the glowing light, from a blurry fogged gaze to clear-cut distinct onto what it seems like a controlled fire within feet from her own stilled shoes. 

It was dark, she realized. Her neck rolled upwards seeing the faint lines of trees, and small shimmers of what it seems to be of other planets. She noticed the uncomfortable sitting she was positioned in legs drawn-out bounded together at her ankles with a rope, cuffed wrist clasped behind her back laid against the forefront of a tree. _What in the dank farrik, she thought to herself._

She can feel the damp of dirt or wetness layering underneath her calves. Somehow she felt humid, airless, and sweaty at the same time. Her vision adjusted to the pitch-black night. _How long has it been,_ she questioned analyzing her environment within her grasp. 

Grass, a lot of em’. Dirt. Woodland. Musk smell. Bugs whispering in the dead of night. She was still in the same deep-wooded forest, she concluded. _The running. The bait. The blasters. Ankle grabbing. The fight. Head smashing._ It was coming back in waves, one after another. 

Her teeth clasp onto her lower lip in frustration as she was sitting in a pool of her regret. Just as she predicted herself. Within a few feet or so, to the left side of the controlled fire, her gaze landed over the Mandalore’s figure. He too is laid against the bark tree, legs drawn out but crossed, and hands folded onto his lower torso. 

Completely still, she notices, his helmet peered forward straight at the fire. Just to the right of him, an aspheric metal ball is enclosed. Her brow scrunched in confusion at the floating object, before looking back onto the Mandalore. Critically analyzing his frame, the illuminated light from the fire reflected on his armour, like specks of glitter and shimmer. 

Her mind wondrously debated, endlessly. With her dry and parched mouth, at this point sucking on her own saliva, she continues to ponder on all of the choices she can make and all the mistakes that can result out of this. _Asleep. Not asleep. Unguarded. Too relaxed. Night. The distance between her and the ship. Hide or don’t hide. Thirsty._ Words echoed limitlessly, contemplating and mulling over her calculated actions. 

She knew and concluded, that whoever sold her out, needed her. _Alive._ That she can use at her advantage, she thought. 

The fire continues to flicker. Specks of noise from the wood fire stayed to a minimum. The buzzing of whispered species rose in and out. Though, annoyed her ringing throbbing headache. Head rested on the rough tree, she patiently waited. Time is the essence. She knew. She wondered if he was looking for her, and pondered if the Mandalore knew that back at her ship, she wasn’t alone, _it wasn’t only just her._

Seconds turned to minutes - perhaps a half-hour before she decided it was clear. 

Asleep or not, she contemplated that at least she would have a head-start. The nightfall was on her side, for now. Her fingers feel for the metal clasps at her wrist, it was unbreakable by her force, she thought. Noticing her torso feeling lighter than usual, she cursed blindly at him, the Mandalore took her firearms and leftover ammunition, even the tracking device-watch that once sat on her wrist. 

She adjusted her frame tilting her weight to one side, before her wrists slid under her arse, and slowly down to her calves. Taking seconds to break in between, as the leaves rustled underneath was ear-piercing enough. Back over-stretched as her bounded hands laced under her feet, once over struggled regardless pulled at the ropes that tethered her ankles. The dirt ropes lazily dangled between her fingers, her questionable eyes squint. 

With undoubted thoughts, that seemed easy enough, her mind alarmed. _Too easy._ Was he lazy or did not how to bound ankles? she questioned. _This was a red flag, she knew._ Her heart stammered a little, feeling the rhythmic beating echoing in her chest, overlooking the Mandalore’s figure.

_Still._

As if he hadn’t moved in an inched, no feet-tapping. No flinch of his fingers or shoulders. Even if she couldn’t see his face, she could at least analyze his mannerism. But that wasn’t enough. 

It wasn’t alarming, yet her eyes still squinted at his physique annoyed and frustrated by the scrapped metal separating his expressions from hers. She debated for a moment whether to trek on a sprint - fast as she could - thinking it could give the Mandalore a whiplash unable to process in his delirious moment - _if_ he was asleep in that case, she thought. 

Out of rising adrenaline and the faded warmth from the fire, she slowly rose from the ground as her bounded hands held the rope that was once tied around her ankles. For some sort of _leverage or weaponry_ , she thought in this particular instance it was better than her useless cuffed wrists.

Cautionary steps were taken on her part, one foot stood in front of another. Evening the paces in between, avoiding any crunched leaves or tall grass. She can feel the rough texture of the rope piercing through the tip of her fingers, not realizing how just _furiously_ tight she was grasping onto them. As if the ropes themselves would make a noise. 

Her steps took around the base of the fire, that is until she stood right in front of his figure. 

Only separating and stood between them was the dragon-ball pit of flame. Her piercing eyes gaze through the scorched firing embers, there he lays perfectly _still_. 

She didn’t trust the Mandalore. She knew in her feverish hate that was bellowing beneath her skin has reached its peak. Her mind recklessly voiced useless thoughts, _it would be better just to kill him now, defenceless, useless, then you wouldn’t have to keep fighting for your escape._

 _But,_ the rational thought of her knew he wouldn’t be the last to try to find her. 

Her head tilts watching, staring at him, any and every part of him. Her gaze lazily and slowly took in his stilled ugly-dirt boots - practically covered in mud. Not much difference from hers, she thought. To the way, his stern broad legs are drawn but crossed as the metal reflects shimmer from the glowing fire. Noticing the risen pent crotched, earning an uncontrollable eye roll that felt it reached the back of her neck. Nonetheless, her eyes lingered, before a small flinch of her eyes somehow focused on his rising chest - long and slow breaths. 

_Huh, perhaps he is asleep,_ she concluded tilting her head in the opposite direction.

She couldn’t grasp as to why she was staring over him like a preyed animal. Perhaps, she thought it would be the last time to memorize her physical experience encountering a Mandalore. Or in this case, _him_. Her gaze took one last look directly at his visor, still as usual, before turning slowly, one foot over the other. 

Just as her gaze looked forward into the dark forest, pitch-black. Quiet. Still. Only the whispers and slow murmurs of species filled the noise. If anything she remembers she could be stepping into an uncharted body of waters. This planet was filled em’, she thought. Or worse falling into a waterfall. 

As the illuminated light faded from her peripheral vision, a voice rose. 

“Sit. Down.”, two words clearly enunciated laced with irritation and alpha-dominance. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a demand. She stood frozen, head snapped peaking through the glowing embers. In the same position, yet his right hand now lingered grasping on what it seemed to be on his holster, a blaster.

Her vision did a double-take, back and forth directly staring at his visor to then the open-entrance of the dark-pitched bleak forest. It was in this underlying silent understanding if she chose to escape, that they both were aware they would lose each other in the dark woodland. 

She chose the latter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: film-isastory
> 
> Let me know what you think so far? If you wanna chat or say hi, comment below or head over to Tumblr! 
> 
> It's my first time creating a story involving the Star Wars/Mandalore Universe. More updates to come!


	3. the chase. part 2.

Her feet that once stepped one over the other now paced as if she was prey hunting an animal to feed on. So swift and rapid that she was sure her heart somehow sprung out of her throat, somewhere lying on the dirt ground. So utterly quick, she couldn’t decipher if there were any rustled noise in the background. She couldn’t care less.

What she knew is that she was heading in a direction, _unknown, uncharted, North. South. She didn’t know. Nonetheless, her feet carried her body away from the Mandalore._

_Or so, she thought._

“Shit!”, she screams with a followed shriek into the void, as she felt a sliced cut at her ankle, throwing her figure down to the ground. Once again, this seemed familiar, she thought. Her face struck against the dirt, as a rush of pain flooded to the core bridge of her nose. A grunt escaped her lips, as she huffed the dirt that somehow entered onto the palette of her tongue. Spitting. Flinching to the taste. The rope is still tight in her hands. 

_She had her plans, he had his. Of course,_ she thought. The feeling all too familiar from once before.

She rolled her body, right arm holding her weight, head snapped down towards her legs, noticing an apparatus, a tool which a long-thin cable no more than a few inches above the ground, tied from one tree to another. Her left ankle shows a mere of a cut, blood slowly oozing.

“Dank farrik”, she mutters underneath her breath. Fury with a touch of wrath blazed from her eyes, targeting at the Mandalore. Whom with some fucking grace is slowly grunting and walking towards her way. 

“I told you to sit down”, he says through his modulator calmly. 

This is why he barely moved. He stayed in this tranquillity state of undisturbed peace because he knew that if she even tried, she would be crashing down regardless. 

His gloved hand reached for her ankle, though in anger and primal instinct she kicked his palm away. Earning a grunt from his lips. With a touch of struggle, he was able to grasp on her left ankle, as a hiss escapes her clamped teeth. The warmth of his gloved fingers spread and forced clenched around the cut sting, whether to stop the bleeding or forcing her to stop budging against his body. 

With his body strength, as all somewhat familiar to her again, he half dispenses her body into the air only holding her ankle. Her bounded hands landed on the ground feeling the leaves between her fingers poking. Right cheek laid on the ground forcibly as a grunt leaves her lips. 

“You know, I can walk!”, she screams into the ground sounding muffled. Annoyed and frustration etched in her expression. 

“Not taking any chances”, he huffed as he half hails her body whilst dragging her against the planet’s skin. Her right foot struggled to hit his calf to then hitting right behind his kneecap. A soft-spot. He falters off-balanced as an exasperated sigh echoes. His free hand grasp onto your kicking foot, “Stop”, his words laced with anger as grunts leave his throat. 

In quick retaliation, without her mind even processing at hand, her foot now grasped tightly in his hand, lurched her knee forward to her chest, throwing his balance one foot forward, to her onward strong kick to his armour-protected sternum. Another aggressive and unpredicted kick again to his torso, sternum to then torso earning a rough gasp from his lungs. His hand freely lose her foot though tightening harder on her left. 

Her left leg lands on the ground roughly, as heavy sighs escape her windpipe. Her gaze landed and narrowly focused on the Mandalore as his gaze returned seeing her body laid. He notices the piercing wrath - in fact, he can feel the radiation from her skin. “You’re a pain in the ass”, he remarks lowly before giving her a chance to speak. “Good”, she spits out.

A grunt leaves his modulator as he lunges forward earning a surprised low-shriek from hers. His hands roughly lunged to her inner thighs holding onto her muscled legs. In a matter of seconds, she utters a rough wheeze as she felt his armoured shoulder knocking the air out of her lungs.

Upside down, over his shoulder. Bounded hands struggled within her body against his as he held tighter to prevent her from struggling. 

Curses flooded from her mouth shouting hoping it would irritate his ears. 

And it did. His footsteps quickly neared back to the camp-fire, less illuminated, losing its embers. Back to her primary spot, seemed as if it was hours ago, though it was merely minutes wasted. His hands aimed to slightly throw her body near the base of the tree, hoping it would break her fall. 

Teeth clamped on her lips to stop the voiced pains escaping her lungs. Head again rested on the bark tree, bounded hands rested on her thighs, as her fingers tightened around the rope she forgotten she had. His dirty boots steps near the fire with his fingers probing, searching, and throwing branches to the fire, strengthening the core of its ember. 

Standing hovered over the illuminated heat, “I don’t have to tell you to sit down and stay, _again_ , now do I?”, he threatens with his hand twisted on the base of his blaster now lingered at his side. Eyes staring at hers, waiting for a response. “Woof”, she responded earning a tilted motion from his visor, head shaking, a retort vocal small-huff released from his lips. 

It was only then long and pointed ears peered out of a metal ball. She took notice. “You woke him up”, the Mandalore states with a sigh. In her response, a pair of rolled eyes laced as an annoyed and offending expression. _Right_ , she thought. 

He peers gazing around his environment before directly and nonchalantly staring directly at her. He cooed and voiced raised garbled noises, in resulting the Mandalore shushing him or trying to calm the little goblin - she couldn’t tell. For the first time, her eyes really set on to what she was seeing right before her eyes. The fire illuminated enough light to capture his small stature, lazily sitting in his comfortable ‘nest’, and big eyes gawking as if he recognized her.

The questionable thought came to her mind, _aren’t you supposed to be extinct?_

Somehow, he responded to her, unbeknownst to the Mandalore, who’s still preoccupied with the fire. Little noises out of his lips, were common words to her ears. Confusion painted on her face, testing the word as if it was foreign, “G-grogu?”. The whispered name fell out of her lips, yet caught the attention of the Mandalore. 

Head snapped, feet directly paced towards her figure, “What did you say?”, he questioned. She could tell by the tone, it was not a genuine question, but rather an accusation. An offending, protective one. 

In shock and confusion, her mouth opened, closed, and opened again. Not knowing what to say, her eyes flickered back and forth to whom now she understood his name _Grogu_ and the _Mandalore_. 

Her mind couldn’t even process how quick and jarring his next set of actions were; a hand to her throat and dragged upwards feet dangling inches from the ground. She can feel the scraps of the barked tree against her clothing, hair pulled back whilst the palm of her hand hitting against his arm. Trapping her trachea between his clenched hands. “Wha- fuck”, she chokes out the words, as his hand squeezed her windpipes. Her eyes blunging out of her sockets, the heat of panic, embarrassment, and lack of blood flowing rush to her face.

“How do you know his name?”, the Mandalore’s voice states with a threat and a domineering command. The visor within inches of her face, the feeling of questionable, and defensive anger radiated off of him. 

A red flush coated her cheeks, as her unfiltered mouth rambled incoherent words. In hysteria, her unfiltered mouth rambled incoherent words, “I-ca-I”, followed with a high-pitched wheeze. 

In her primal instinctive nature, prompted by her unconscious actions. The calloused rope that once held between her fingers, in fast motion over his t-visor helmet, pulled at its ends, quickly and unexpectedly twisted right under the nape of his neck. Sneaking in right between the fabric covering his neck onto the skin, she pulled and hands twisted, grasping onto the rope _tight_ \- forcing his pipes to heave out a choke. In shock, his hand unclenched, while her knees hit the ground leaving the rope behind. 

His feet retaliated backwards, gasping for air. While, her knees give out as she laid on the ground choking, trying to heave as much air into her lungs. 

It was a moment of silence. 

Perhaps from both sides, _a moment of forfeit._

“I see we got on the wrong foot here”, she chokes out saying, her palm resting on her chest. Her teary eyes caught the sky’s streak of lights, slowly saying hello. She can hear the uncontrollable breaths coming from _him, while she controls hers._

“What are you?”, he asks. _Perhaps this time was a genuine question, her mind thought._

Her eyes fluttered closed to the wishes of how she should’ve never gotten out of that damn ship. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: film-isastory

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: film-isastory 
> 
> Come over and say hi!


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